Goody Two Shoes
by ClancyBaggins
Summary: Dean is always the one looking out for his little brother, Sam. When that changes after a hunt, Sam has to deal with helping Dean and getting him back. Evil!Dean
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: Dean is always the one looking out for his little brother, Sam. When that changes after a hunt, Sam has to deal with helping Dean and getting him back. Evil!Dean**

**Disclaimer: Does anyone actually read these disclaimers? Oh well, own nothing. **

**Title is from the song Goody Two Shoes from Adam and the Ants 'cause I couldn't think of a different title. I'm open to suggestions though. **

The wire frame of the mattress-less bed cut into Sam's back and the tape cut off the circulation in his hands and feet. But he didn't notice this pain, he was too focused on a greater pain to pay attention to such small detail.

Standing over him, Dean's face was painted with blood – Sam's blood. He's eyes were the green that was so familiar to Sam. There was nothing wrong with them. They weren't black, they didn't flash in security cameras. They were the eyes of Sam's big brother. And now Sam's big brother was brandishing a new toy off his table.

"I know what sound you make when you get a little personal with Ruby's knife but what about a scalpel. It's sharper, it'll cut deeper.

"De- Dean…" Sam panted. "Dean, please, it's me."

The scalpel slipped from Dean's hand and a vacant look over took his face. "S-Sam…"

"Yes! Dean, it's me!" Sam felt a pang of hope. "Dean, you have to fight it! You're not you! You have to fight it."

"S-Sam…I..c-can't…"

"Yes you can Dean. You have to!"

"I c-can't… believe you fell for that!" Dean laughed, picking up a different utensil from his table. "Ah, kid you are too gullible."

Sam coughed blood up from his lungs as his older brother intruded another blade into his body.

_One week earlier…_

Dean awoke to the sounds of Bobby downstairs in the living room cursing. He instinctively froze and discretely reached under his pillow for his knife.

"Dean, relax, man," came Sam's voice from the opposite bed. "It's just Bobby."

Dean groaned and opened his eyes for the first time in the morning. The sun was streaming through the dirt-covered windows illuminating Bobby's dusty spare room. The way it streamed in told Dean that it wasn't even eight in the morning yet.

"What the hell is he doing down there?" croaked Dean, getting out of bed.

Sam shrugged. "Trying to wake us up, I dunno."

Dean groaned again but followed Sam down to the living room. Bobby was busy piling books from the ground onto his desk. It looked as if the books had fallen off the old hunter's desk. In fact, it was obvious that was what happened.

"Morning sunshine," Dean said, earning a glare from the senior hunter. "Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Bed?" questioned Bobby. "What bed? While you two slept happily, I've been looking through all these books."

"Definitely the wrong side of the bed," Dean mumbled to Sam.

Sam walked away from his brother, and into the kitchen for coffee. Unsurprisingly to Sam, the coffee pot was empty after Bobby's evidently fruitless night of research. He set up the coffee maker to do its job. Dean walked into the kitchen and stood next to Sam, invading Sam's personal space, watching as he made coffee.

"No coffee?" Dean asked.

Sam looked sideways at his older brothers pouting face. "In a minute, Dean. Do you have to stand so close?"

"What's wrong with where I'm standing?"

Sam gave Dean a look. "It's annoying. Go stand over there, stop watching me."

"I don't want to stand over there. I'm happy here – no wait, I'm happy here." Dean took a step closer to Sam, smiling. His brother didn't seem as amused as him. "What?"

"Dean, seriously, go stand over there. Just go away."

"Aw, what's wrong Sammy? I can't stand next to my baby brother anymore?"

"You know what? Whatever, Dean," Sam sighed, "just whatever."

"Aw, does Sammy need a hug?"

"What? No! Dean, go away." Sam turned back to the coffee maker, intent on ignoring his obnoxiously brother. "Dean!"

Dean wrapped his arms clumsily over his little brother. "Come here!" Sam protested, Dean just held on harder. "Shush, it's okay Sam. Just feel the hug."

"Dean, ge' off me!" Sam yelled, trying to push his brother off him to no avail.

"Would you two idjits cut it off?" Bobby grumbled from the doorway.

Dean let Sam go with a smirk. Sam just glared in return and straightened his clothing with a huff. Bobby rolled his eyes and walked over to the fresh pot of coffee, pouring himself a new cup. He drank a few mouthfuls before topping up his mug again and walking back into the living room with a mumbled 'idjits' behind him.

Dean smirked and grabbed a coffee mug. He filled up his mug with the coffee, noting that after he poured himself a cup there was only enough coffee for one more cup. Sam grabbed a mug from the kitchen bench and reached for the coffee pot in Dean's hands.

"Hey, wait your turn," smirked Dean, a plan fully formed in his mind.

"Wha – it is my turn." Sam recognised the glint in his brother eye. Sam tensed, moving forward for the coffee pot. "Dean, the pot."

Dean stepped backwards. "Slow down there big boy. I thought you didn't want me to be close to you _and _now here you are, moving into my personal bubble."

"Dean. Give me the pot."

Dean looked at Sam. The pot. His coffee mug. He brought the coffee mug to his lips and – eyes set, starring at Sam – sculled the rest of his own coffee. It was hot, it was burning as it drained down his throat. Dean felt his face redden but played casual as best he could while pouring more coffee into his mug. Leaving the pot empty. He sipped his recently refreshed, contently.

Sam grumbled and snatched away the coffee pot. "You are such a jerk, Dean."

Sam looked towards his brother, expecting to see him burst out laughing. Yet, his face was still.

"Dean, you okay?"

Dean burst out in a coughing fit. He doubled over. Sam quickly grabbed Dean's arm to help support him, rubbing Dean's back with his other hand.

"What's wrong?" Sam sounded panicked.

Bobby entered the kitchen, drawn to the sounds of Dean chocking. He rushed to the eldest Winchesters aid as well.

"Dean? Dean!" Sam yelled before suddenly dropping hold of his brother. Bobby looked up at him with a questioningly look. Sam just sighed. "You burnt your throat didn't you?"

Dean nodded.

Sam sighed again and Bobby let go of Dean who grabbed at the kitchen bench for support in his coughing fit.

"Wha –" began Bobby.

"Was it worth it, Dean?" Sam grumbled, starting to make coffee yet again.

"You know it, bitch." Dean laughed, trying to regain his composure.

"If you two are done, I could use some help."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks. Dean's mischievous, Sam's annoyed.

**Please Review. Praise or Flame, a review is a review and I'm not picky. Besides, if you're reading this, you might as well give me your opinion, yes?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to all of you who favourite and alerted this story and thanks so much to Julia for her review. Thanks for the tip, I wasn't sure what I should rate this story, so, the rating is up. **

Bobby had been looking into an old hunter friend who, according to the hunter's wife and partner, showed all signs of possession with none of the symptoms so to speak. As Dean had put it, he'd turned dark side without anyone riding the car.

"This might not be a possession," stated Sam. "I mean people can be pretty evil as well and he's a hunter, he may have just snapped."

"Yeah?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "How many hunters do you know who _just snapped_ and went on a killing spree? It has to be a demon."

"Dean's right. I know Alan, he wouldn't do this," Bobby agreed with Dean.

"But, you said that his wife couldn't exorcisize the demon, and devils traps don't work," Sam remarked.

Bobby indicated to the mountains of books on his desk. "That's what I'm trying to find out about. I'm not reading all these for my health you know."

"What about a shifter?" Dean asked.

Bobby shook his head. "No, according to his wife, Alan's still silver tolerant."

"What the hell is go-" One of Bobby's phones rang in the kitchen. Dean looked at Bobby. "Are you running phones for anyone today?"

"Not that I know of," Bobby said, walking to the kitchen with the Winchesters following. Bobby answered the FBI labelled phone, "Willis."

The Winchesters watched as Bobby's face turned confused.

"Special Agent Lou Gramm? Ah yes, he is one of my men. Yes I sent him to – White Rock? Yes. Are you questioning me, boy? Good," with that Bobby hung up the phone. "He's in White Rock."

"White Rock, South Dakota? That's only about two hours away," Sam calculated.

"We have to go get Alan before he can hurt anyone else," Bobby voiced.

"No," Dean objected. "You should stay here and find out what we're dealing with. Me and Sam will go get him and bring him back."

Bobby nodded and headed back towards the research in the living room. "Don't hurt him, and for God's sake, look out for each other."

Within five minutes, the Winchesters were pulling out of the long driveway of Singer Salvage. Sam's calculations proved correct when they arrived in White Rock, South Dakota two hours later. White Rock wasn't really a town, more of a blip on the map with a handful of backwards hillbilly's living in old cabins somewhere deep in the woods.

"Hey, Dean." Sam got his brothers attention. "Something's not right. Bobby got a phone call, do you really think anyone here has a phone?"

Dean looked troubled, looking out the front window as he drove. "You think this could be a trap?"

"Dean stop!" Dean pushed on the break and came to an abrupt halt. "Look."

Dean stopped giving his little brother a _what-the-hell-dude_ look and turned to see a car wrapped around a tree. Trees grew densely and it was a wonder how the car got so far into the area to wrap around a large, strong tree without hitting any of the other trees first. It wasn't possible.

"What the hell," Dean breathed, reaching for his car door.

"Dean, stop, it could be a trap remember."

"Yeah, well, what else do we have to go on," Dean said and got out of the car, gun pulled.

Sam shrugged, agreeing with his brother on that matter and followed him. Sam caught up to Dean in a few seconds and they proceeded towards the wreck. It was fresh. Smoke was coming from the car.

"Dean," Sam indicated to their left with his head. Dean nodded and started walking that way. A small human made trail led down through some trees, but Dean and Sam couldn't see what it let to – if it led to anything.

They moved at a slight jog down the path, guns at the ready by their sides. It wasn't too long before the path led the way for them to see a backwards cabin like Sam had imagined in these parts. The door to the cabin was ajar and the brothers approached it cautiously.

"You think this has anything to do with the hunter?"

"When in our life has anything ever been a coincidence," mumbled Dean, peering around the front of the cabin.

A scream issued from inside the cabin and the Winchesters ran heedlessly inside. Inside, a middle-aged woman was strapped with ropes to a chair. Dean quickly ran over to her while Sam searched the one room cabin.

"My name is Dean Winchester. I'm here to help you. What happened?" Dean asked, untying the rope.

"Winchester?" her voice was scrappy. "My husband, he – I called Bobby about him."

"Your Alan Stanton's wife?"

"Look out!" She yelled towards Sam.

Dean looked up to see a knife aiming towards his little brother. The knife was in the hands of who Dean knew had to be Alan Stanton. Dean instinctively raised his gun and yelled a warning for the man to drop his knife, he didn't. It continued its path towards Sam, who hadn't reacted fast enough. Dean shoot as Sam fell backwards trying to avoid the man with the knife.

Alan Stanton grunted as the bullet from Dean's gun entered his stomach area. He stayed frozen, standing up for a few seconds before crumpling to the ground.

"Alan!" screamed his wife.

Sam scrambled to his feet and away from the body of a fellow hunter. The woman continued to shriek in the background. It was the only sound in the room.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam turned to ask but he didn't get a reply.

Dean stood behind the woman, knife blade to her throat.

"Dean, what?" Sam stepped towards his brother before blood gushed from the woman's throat. "Dean! What are you - "

Sam fell backwards to the floor, after his brother lunged forward onto him. He struggled underneath his brother. Confused. He saw the blood of the woman on the knife that angled towards him.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" Sam yelled.

He kicked his brother in the knee, in an awkward manoeuvre from his position on the ground. He flipped his brother over and grabbed his wrist. He knocked Dean's hand to the ground repeatedly until he relinquished his hold on the knife.

"What's going on?" Sam panted.

Dean smirked, but it wasn't the usual smirk Sam saw on his brother. Dean's knee jumped up to jab Sam in his stomach and he fell back coughing off his brother. Sam saw a blur of denim as Dean escaped out of the cabins door. Sam stumbled to his feet, grabbing Dean's knife from the ground on his way.

Out into the daylight, the trees stole most of the light. Sam ran along the path they followed to the cabin. He didn't see or even hear Dean the entire time. Eventually he found the road.

He found the road but no Dean. No Dean and no impala.

**That's chapter two, I don't know how I feel about how it turned out. It seems more like a filler until Evil!Dean. Let me know what you think, and as usual please Review. Praise or Flame, a review is a review and I'm not picky.**


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